"You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read…You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with." ~Dickens

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Confessions of a slacker wife

So I am totally bad at being a wife. And by wife I mean I suck at domesticity. It is just not what I am cut out for. I have never had a burning desire to clean my house, wash dishes, do laundry, cook, sew, and make bread. I just don’t really like any of those things. I have no desire to ever make homemade bread, and you know what, I am totally fine with this (Sorry Grandma Delsa). At times I feel pangs of guilt because I suck, but those pangs are getting less and less as the years go on. I totally aspire to have a cleaning lady one day. Is that bad? Don’t answer that, because I don’t care if it’s bad or not, I will still want one. The reason I bring this up, is because of a conversation I had with my husband tonight. He is competing in a law school argument contest thing, and picked me up from work at 4, got home, studied while I heated up leftovers for him, ate and then took off for the night to study more. Before he leaves, and after he eats what I am sure are delicious leftovers, he asks me what I am going to eat.

John: What are you going to have for dinner?
Me: I don’t know, we don’t have anything
John: Why don’t you go to Jimmy Johns and get something to eat?
Me: BY MYSELF? Are you freakin kiddin me?
John: I don’t know, why not?
Me: And eat alone in there?
John: You could eat in the car
Me: Have you met me? Do you know me at all? In the past 7 years have you ever seen me do this? That is even sadder than eating alone in Jimmy John’s.
John: Well what do you want for dinner?
Me: I don’t know…but if you leave next summer for an internship, and I have to stay here because of my job, I will totally starve, you know this right?
John: nothing but fits of laughter and total agreement.

You have to know something, John cooks me the same breakfast everyday of my life, egg whites, and he also cooks me enough for lunch everyday. At night John cooks us chicken for salad, or cooks anything else that sounds good to us. He has completely enabled me to the point that I can’t even think about cooking anything for dinner if he is not here to do it for me. And you know what? I love the hell out of him for it.